His Name Is Ryder

CHAPTER 2

POV: Mia

The Thursday meeting loomed like a storm cloud Mia couldn’t outrun. She spent the morning in the library pretending to review articles on conformity bias, but her highlighter kept hovering over the same paragraph without marking anything. Every few minutes her phone would light up with another message from Ethan, photos of him in a suit at some corporate dinner, a voice note saying he’d found the perfect sushi place for when he got back. She listened to it twice, smiling at the way his accent thickened when he got excited. Then she deleted the voice note and stared at the blank screen until her eyes burned.

By 2:15PM, she was in the student union’s study lounge, the one with the big windows overlooking the quad. Neutral ground. Public. Safe. She’d chosen a table near the back, laptop open, two coffees already cooling in front of her, one black for him, one with oat milk for herself. Research spread out like armor.

Ryder arrived at 2:30PM exactly. She knew because she’d been watching the door despite herself. He wore the same black hoodie from class, but the sleeves were pushed up again, revealing those forearms and a thin silver chain around his wrist that caught the light when he moved. His hair looked damp, like he’d showered not long ago. He scanned the room once, spotted her, and walked over without hesitation.

“Mia,” he said by way of greeting. No hello. No apology for being on time rather than early. He dropped into the chair across from her, eyes flicking over the setup before settling on her face.

“Ryder.” She slid the black coffee toward him. “Figured we could start with the literature review. I pulled some sources on Asch’s experiments and—”

He took the cup but didn’t drink. Instead he leaned back, studying her the way someone might study a painting they were deciding whether to buy. “You always this prepared?”

“Only when thirty percent of my grade is on the line.” She kept her tone light, professional. The kind of voice she used with professors and group members she barely knew.

A ghost of something… amusement? approval touched his mouth. Not quite a smile. “Good. I requested you for a reason.”

Her fingers tightened around her own cup. “Requested me?”

“Langdon lets us submit preferences. I put your name down.”

Mia blinked. The cafeteria door moment flashed behind her eyes, the way he’d looked at her like he already knew something she didn’t. “Why?”

“You pay attention. Most people in that class are just waiting for the clock to hit 3PM. You take notes like the material matters.” He shrugged one shoulder, as if that explained everything. “Plus I figured you wouldn’t waste my time.”

She wasn’t sure whether to feel flattered or unsettled. Both, probably. “Well… thanks, I guess. Let’s just get this done efficiently. I have other commitments.”

“Boyfriend in Japan.” It wasn’t a question.

Mia’s stomach twisted. How the hell did he know that? She hadn’t mentioned Ethan to anyone in class. “Yeah. He’s coming back in a couple weeks.”

Ryder nodded slowly, like he was filing the information away. “Must be hard. Long distance.”

“It has its moments.” She opened her laptop, turning the screen toward him. “Anyway. The project. Social influence on personal decision making, right? We could frame it around romantic choices or career paths—”

“Or loyalty,” he cut in quietly.

The word landed heavy between them. She looked up. His eyes were fixed on her, dark and steady. The lounge noise, chatter, espresso machine hissing, rain starting against the windows faded for a second.

“What?” she asked.

“Loyalty. How far people go to maintain it when something better shows up.” He reached for a pen from her pile and started sketching a rough diagram on a blank sheet. His handwriting was sharp, deliberate. “Could be interesting.”

Mia swallowed. “Maybe. But let’s stick close to the rubric.”

They worked for the next hour. Or at least, she tried to. Ryder was sharp… unnervingly so. He caught connections in the research she’d missed, challenged her on assumptions without being condescending. When their hands brushed reaching for the same article, he didn’t pull away immediately. Neither did she. The contact lingered a beat too long, warmth bleeding through skin, and she yanked her hand back like she’d been shocked.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“Don’t be.” His voice had dropped lower.

By 4PM, the rain had turned into a proper downpour. The lounge was emptying out. Mia packed her things slowly, aware of him watching her again.

“I’ll type up the outline tonight and send it over,” she said, zipping her bag.

“Or we could keep going. My place is five minutes from here. Dry. Better coffee than whatever this is.” He nodded at the half empty cups.

Mia laughed, the sound brittle even to her own ears. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” He stood too, towering over the table. Not threatening. Just… present. “Afraid I’ll bite?”

“Afraid I’ll waste your time, remember?” She tried for sarcasm. It came out shaky.

Ryder stepped closer. Close enough that she caught the scent of him, rain on leather, something clean and dark like cedar. “You’re not wasting it, Mia. Not even close.”

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out gratefully. Ethan’s name glowed on the screen. Just woke up. Thinking about you. Call when you can?

“I have to go,” she said quickly. “Boyfriend stuff.”

Ryder’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. He nodded once. “Tell him I said hi.”

She stared. “What?”

A faint smirk this time. Real. Dangerous. “Kidding. Text me when you send the outline.”

He left first, hoodie up against the rain. Mia stood there watching through the streaked windows as he crossed the quad, shoulders straight, unhurried even as water soaked him. She waited until he was out of sight before calling Ethan back.

“Hey, baby!” Ethan’s voice wrapped around her like a familiar blanket. “How’d the meeting go?”

“Fine. Productive. My partner’s… intense about the work.”

“Good. You need someone who pulls their weight. Listen, I managed to move my flight up two days. Thirteen days now. I can’t wait to see you.”

Thirteen days. Her chest ached with something that felt suspiciously like relief. And guilt. Mostly guilt.

“I can’t wait either,” she whispered.

That night the dorm felt too small. Her roommate, Lena, was out at some party, leaving Mia alone with the rain drumming on the roof and her thoughts spinning in circles. She sent Ryder the outline at 9:30PM, keeping it strictly professional. His reply came ten minutes later.

Ryder: Looks solid. You free tomorrow evening? Library basement. Quiet. We can knock out the methodology section.

Mia: I have a study group until 7.

Ryder: After 7 then. I’ll wait.

She stared at the message for a long time. Then she turned her phone off and tried to sleep.

Sleep didn’t come easy. When it did, she dreamed of eyes, Ethan’s warm brown ones smiling at her across an airport terminal, and another pair, darker, watching from the shadows. In the dream she walked toward Ethan but kept glancing back, pulled by something she couldn’t name.

Friday dragged. Classes blurred. She skipped her usual run, too restless. By 7:30PM she was in the library basement, the stacks around her smelling of old paper and dust. Ryder was already there, two chairs pulled close to a small table, laptop open, and surprisingly a fresh coffee waiting in front of the empty seat.

“You remembered oat milk,” she said, surprised.

“I pay attention.” Same words he’d used about her. He gestured for her to sit.

They worked. Or tried. The basement was quiet, almost intimate. Only the hum of the ventilation and the occasional distant footsteps above them. Ryder’s knee brushed hers under the table once. She moved it away. He did it again fifteen minutes later, deliberate this time. She didn’t move.

“You’re tense,” he observed without looking up from his screen.

“Long week.”

“Boyfriend keeping you up?”

Mia’s head snapped up. “That’s none of your business.”

He finally met her eyes. The fluorescent lights overhead cast shadows under his cheekbones, making him look sharper. Hungrier. “Everything about you is my business now, Mia. We’re partners.”

The word hung between them, loaded. Partners. Project partners. Nothing more. But the way he said it…

She stood abruptly. “I need air.”

He rose too, faster than she expected, blocking the narrow aisle without quite touching her. “What are you afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid.” Lie. Her pulse was racing. “I just… I have a life, Ryder. A good one. I don’t need complications.”

His hand came up slowly, fingers hovering near her jaw but not closing the distance. Close enough that she felt the heat. “Who said anything about complications? I’m just looking at you, Mia. That’s all.”

The way he said her name, soft, almost reverent, sent heat pooling low in her belly. Wrong. So wrong. She stepped back, bumping into the shelf behind her. A book shifted.

“I should go.”

“Stay.” Not a command. A quiet request that somehow felt heavier. “Finish the section. Then you can run back to your perfect long distance boyfriend and pretend this didn’t happen.”

She hated how right he was. Hated how much she wanted to stay.

They finished the section in silence, the tension thick enough to taste. When they packed up at 9PM, the library was nearly deserted. Rain had started again outside. Ryder walked her to the main doors, close but not touching.

“Tomorrow?” he asked.

“I have plans.”

“Cancel them.”

She laughed despite herself. “You’re impossible.”

“No. Just certain.” He reached out then, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered on the shell of her ear, thumb brushing her cheekbone once. The touch was electric. “Goodnight, Mia.”

She walked back to the dorm in the rain without an umbrella, letting it soak her. Cold water on hot skin. When she got to her room she stripped off her wet clothes and stood under a scalding shower until her fingers pruned. Ethan called while she was drying off. She let it ring twice before answering, voice carefully bright.

They talked for forty minutes about his work, her classes, the weather in Tokyo versus here. She laughed at his jokes. Told him she loved him. And when she hung up, she opened her messages with Ryder and typed:

Mia: Sunday afternoon. Coffee shop off campus. Neutral. 3pm.

His reply was immediate.

Ryder: I’ll be there.

Mia stared at the ceiling long after lights out. Thirteen days until Ethan came home. Thirteen days to get her head straight. But already the clock felt like it was speeding up, and Ryder Holt was standing in the middle of her carefully built road, eyes fixed on her like he had all the time in the world.

And some treacherous part of her was already wondering what it would feel like to stop running.